


The Nature of Kingship

by BloodiedRose



Series: Broken Crown [3]
Category: Class (TV 2016)
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Gen, Historical References, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Post-Season/Series 01, Relationship Discussions, Sparring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-20 07:59:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9481934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodiedRose/pseuds/BloodiedRose
Summary: It may be a futile hope. Or Charlie may actually be getting better.Formerly To Be a King





	1. Duty

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry that this has taken so long. I have had a pretty intense week and a half so I haven't had the time to write. I'm making myself write the next instalment before I upload everything (hence why some of the uploads have come so quickly) in the hopes that my need for gratification from you lovely people will make me keep writing. So this part was actually written several weeks ago.
> 
> I want to flesh the Rhodians out a bit so I've made up some history for them which is, again, based on English history. Which I have also included. Because I can. And I have a thing for fictional characters making historical references (Forever was too good to me).

It was not hard to convince people that Charlie had been ill. In fact, they may have had more difficulty convincing everyone that Charlie was not dying. Some colour had returned to his face but it was still pale and ashen. He still was not eating as much as he should, so the weight he had lost had not yet been gained back. If Matteusz did not know what was going on he would think that Charlie had been dying too. Perhaps he had been. Perhaps he still was.

But it was an improvement. Charlie had brought it up at dinner the previous Friday, that he wanted to return to school before he fell so far behind that he would never pass the year. Matteusz had wanted to argue with him. It was still a gamble whether Charlie would be able to leave his bed each day. He could hold conversations with them now but still could not look Matteusz in the eye. Forcing him back to school could undo all the progress that they had made. Charlie had looked so hopeful though, smiling slightly at Matteusz. He could not take away that hope. Quill had just threatened to drag Charlie to school if he did not go back as soon as possible. In his pyjamas, if necessary. 

Charlie had not been prepared for how cold it had become, not having clothes thick enough for winter. Matteusz’s warmest outfits were still at his parents’ house so they were shivering together. He wanted nothing more than to grab Charlie and hold him tightly so that their body warmth would heat the other up. When Matteusz had explained Charlie the cold temperatures of English winter, he had promised that in the day they could cling to each other to stay warm. At night there were more fun and rigorous activities they could perform to heat up their room. It had been a delightful promise, one that Matteusz had more than intended to fulfil at the time. They had yet to drum up the courage to touch each other now.

The ‘Bunghole Defence Squad’ had become the ‘Act Like Awkward Family Relatives Squad’. There was so much to say to each other but absolutely no ways to say it. Tanya looked guilty when she saw Charlie. Matteusz felt slightly glad at that, that she could see what she had so ardently begged Charlie to do. Ram had all but branded him. His hands would clench every time he saw Charlie. Once his hand was almost raised to throw the punch before he realised it had even moved. 

April, though. April looked almost more desperate to see Charlie than Matteusz had been. She had looked horrified when she saw him, and Matteusz had been afraid that perhaps there was still an instinctive fear for the man that had killed her even if she had been a willing party. But her eyes had quickly focused in on Charlie’s sunken face and trembling hands. She had tried to come towards them. Charlie had seen her and stopped in his tracks, eyes going wide. Her eyes had welled up with tears but she smiled and waved all the same. April had largely been avoiding them since.

Matteusz had expected he and Charlie to part ways as soon as they could, but had instead found them remaining around each other even more than they had when they first began dating. Charlie’s eyes had become panic stricken when he realised they did not have all the same classes. Matteusz had taken chemistry while Charlie took biology (biology was more planet specific, apparently, but human chemistry was almost as out of date as their knowledge of physics and much more frustrating), and Charlie had taken fine arts when Matteusz could not draw to save his life. He had not realised how protective he was of Charlie until it sunk in that there would be periods where Charlie was left to the mercies of the outside world. Still he had given Charlie a reassuring smile. Matteusz did not want to leave Charlie, but it was Charlie who looked like he would rather die than be alone.

Charlie had even been sneaking off in the mornings to be with Miss Quill. Matteusz had been concerned at first, especially when he had seen Charlie’s sleeve roll up one day and caught a glimpse of the dark bruises. When he had asked about them Charlie had smiled. Not the shaky and uncertain smile that had become common, one that was clearly meant for show rather than stemming out of actual joy. This had been a wide smile. One that Matteusz had seen many times before, but almost never since. Charlie had explained that Quill had taken him to the gym, and by the looks of things promptly beaten him up. But Quill also looked like she had some bruises hidden her clothes and had a similar air of satisfaction. So Matteusz had filed it under ‘Alien- do not question’ and moved on. 

Matteusz tried to focus through Chem but was unable to. He nibbled at his nails, hoping that Charlie would be able to make it through the lesson without panicking. They shouldn’t have gone straight to school. There should have been a week where he eased Charlie into things, taken him to get food and get some winter clothes and see if he could handle that first before dumping Charlie straight into the place where he had suffered one of the most traumatic events in his life. By the time the bell rang, the skin around Matteusz’s nails was nearly bleeding. He practically ran outside.

Charlie was pressed against his locker. He was trembling, but it was nothing compared to the shaking that Matteusz had become to expect from him. Matteusz walked up to him and placed his hand on Charlie’s shoulder. It was only after Charlie looked down at it with wide eyes that Matteusz realised what he had done. He quickly pulled it away. Charlie looked disappointed.

“How was biology?” Matteusz choked out. 

“Scary,” Charlie admitted. “But I did it. I can do it again, I think.”

Then Charlie reached out and brushed the back of his hand against the back of Matteusz’s. It felt like electricity was shooting up his arm. There had been a similar feeling when they had first held hands, when they had first kissed, when they had slept together for the first time. Even though they were in public Matteusz wanted nothing more than to push Charlie against the locker and kiss him. Press their mouths together while he curled his fingers in Charlie’s hair and Charlie wrapped his arms around his waist, all while letting out those soft moans that Matteusz liked so much. But Matteusz knew they couldn’t. And there was a part of him that was starting to hurt because of it. No matter how much the rational part of his brain implored that he and Charlie needed to keep as much space between them as possible, lest they never be able to have a relationship again, the rest of him just wanted things to be as they were. He loved Charlie so much that some days he felt like it was beginning to kill him.

Instead Matteusz settled for this small touch that neither of them seemed to be in a rush to disconnect. They walked to lunch like that, gently touching the backs of their hands. Even though Matteusz yearned to do more this small action felt right. Things could never go back to the way they were before after what he and Charlie had experienced. It was not healthy to ignore what had happened. Sometimes Matteusz wondered if that was all Charlie had been doing from the moment he had arrived on Earth. Ignore what had happened. Keep moving until you break. Stiff upper lip; keep calm and carry on. Try not to kill yourself in the meantime.

“History next,” Charlie said once they had sat down. Matteusz murmured in agreement around his sandwich.

“Henry V,” he replied.

“I thought that was Shakespeare?”

“Shakespeare wrote often on historical figures. Agincourt is English legend. Did no artists idolise royals on Rhodia?”

“My Great-Grandmother. There had been rebellions from the northern quarters for the past hundred years or so. They felt that they were being neglected by the government and exploited in order to better fund the southern hemisphere of Rhodia. And then the poor in the Southeast Quarter rebelled as well because of their harsh treatment from the upper classes.”

“Sounds similar to what Quill says she was fighting about.”

“... There are not many differences, I will admit. The Quill had some valid concerns, but the methods they employed did far more to hurt their cause than it could ever further it. A rebellion or strike I can understand but bombing civilians and-”

Matteusz squeezed Charlie’s hand. He had spent more than enough evenings eating awkwardly while Quill and Charlie traded barbs over the respective moralities of their two armies. It had long since taught him when Charlie was about to go off on a tangent. It had also taught him to discern between what was truth and was their respectives prejudices taking a hold of them. Neither Quill nor Rhodian was heartless, no matter what the other side said. 

“Your Great-Grandmother?” Matteusz prompted, hoping to keep Charlie from delving down that road again. It worked. Charlie took a deep breath and continued.

“She was only eighteen when she was crowned. The youngest ruler in two centuries.”

“Are there many younger? Many younger than you?”

“I am not King!” Charlie snapped. Matteusz looked around, but no one had noticed. The ‘Do-Not-Notice’ filter on Charlie was powerful enough to even cloak outbursts. “I would not… I would not _dare_ call myself King until I have been crowned by my people. They have to accept… Damn the technicalities, I am _not_ King until they…” 

Matteusz squeezed Charlie’s hand again. Charlie was breathing heavily, like he had when they were trapped inside the classroom. He wanted to calm Charlie down and knew that touch, or at least Matteusz’s touch, always did that. One day he had planned to ask about that. But all he could permit himself now was holding Charlie’s hand and still it felt like too much. Matteusz could feel the Shadow Kin blood rising from Charlie’s soaked hands. His instinct told him to pull away but he stroked his thumb over the skin instead.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to upset you,” Matteusz whispered. Charlie shook his head.

“I’m having trouble controlling my emotions lately.” Charlie breathed slowly to regulate it to normal, before continuing. “There have been some younger. Three at eighteen. One fifteen. One at twelve. Once the monarch died shortly before their heir was born, so they were crowned almost directly after birth. It was civil war after, the uncle had been placed as regent and did not want to relinquish power. He would have had it, a regent is required until the age of sixteen so I am not sure why he did not just wait. He ended up with his head on a spike.”

“Is that what your Great-Grandmother did to rebels?”

“No. No, that was why she was renowned. She managed to unite all of Rhodia and almost no blood was spilled. It was meant to bring on a century of peace.” Charlie went silent for a while. Matteusz finished eating his lunch, and tried to urge Charlie to eat more. He did, but not much. “Tell me about this Henry? I’m sure it will be on a test.”

“Well, it is for essay. We need to talk about controversial historical event.”

“And how was he controversial?”

“There was war between England and France. It went for hundred years.”

“Constantly?”

“I do not think so. But there was famous battle at Agincourt. The English won, but they were outnumbered by the many French prisoners. King Henry executed all of them.”

Charlie’s brow furrowed. He reached for the textbook Matteusz had sat down between them were their lunches were. He flipped to the index, then to the pages with the relevant information. They spent the rest of their lunch in silence while Charlie read. Matteusz played on his phone, scrolling through photos of Baby Quill he would take when Adult Quill wasn’t looking. He kept scrolling back until he accidentally stumbled on old photos. Charlie was smiling up at him. His hair was ruffled and he looked close to falling asleep. Matteusz knew this photo. It had been only a few days before Disastrous Detention. Charlie had collapsed into the sheets, smiling contentedly at him. Sometimes after sex Charlie drifted away in his mind, but sometimes he stayed and looked at Matteusz like a blind man seeing the sun. Matteusz would see that look and never be able to understand how if Charlie looked like him like that, how it must look like when Matteusz looked at him. He had never seen someone look so happy. Now he may never see it again.

After the strain of their lesson apart, it was a relief that they sat next to each other in History. It was only when they sat down that Charlie handed Matteusz back his textbook. Once the class finished shuffling in and settling down the teacher stood up.

“I think that the best way to discern your argument is to sound off of each other,” she said. “Can anyone who is in the anti camp tell me why they are against this action?” A few hands shot up, and she picked one.

“The French had already surrendered. The battle had ended. Killing them was an act of murder and pretty damn cowardly if you ask me.”

“They outnumbered them though,” another student said. “There was at least twice as many of the French than us lot, and they didn’t have dysentery and all that either.”

“He didn’t have to kill them all.”

“So what, he should have just picked and choosed who got offed? How’d he decide that then?”

“He could’ve just taken their weapons and armour!”

“Yeah, because that would have stopped them!”

“He did what he should have done,” Charlie said quietly, but the conversation stopped instantly. One girl even had her mouth already forming a sentence. Charlie rarely, if ever, spoke during class. Every time he did, it was as if people were noticing for the first time that he was there. Considering people only seemed to remember Charlie when their attention was actually focused on him, it was possible that they were. “It is the role of a King to do whatever they must in order to protect their people. No matter how horrific the act is to their personal sensibilities, if there is a significant enough risk they must do it!”

“What, so murdering almost an entire generation is fine because there was a _chance_ that they could kill everyone?” Ram. If it was anyone else, Matteusz knew the filter would ensure that the conversation was forgotten. Everyone else in the room would forget what had happened by the time they left. But Ram would remember. Because those two needed more to fight about. “And I suppose racial profiling is just great because who cares how many innocent people get hurt because one of them _might_ be a terrorist? It’s all fine?!”

“Of course not! By doing such a thing he would have sacrificed all rights as a Rho- as a person. All wrongdoing must be punished equally. Any abuse of power must be met with a loss of that power. He ordered a mass loss of life and as such loses his life. Any King should know that. It is their role to protect their people, and to pay the price for doing so.”

“So a commander, I dunno, is forced to become the enemy’s slave?”

“Yes.” Charlie sounded so certain, his voice filled with distress and venom. 

“If everyone deserves to be punished for their actions, what are you still doing here?” Ram asked, with an equal amount of vitriol. Charlie jerked back as if Ram had punched him in the face. Matteusz had to fight the urge to walk across the room and make Ram just _shut up_ for once in his life. But Ram looked upset. Angry, yes, but Matteusz could catch a glimpse of tears in his eyes. He gritted his teeth and turned to look back at Charlie. It was like they were back in the auditorium, shoulders slumped and glassy eyed. 

Charlie did not speak again for the rest of the day. But the next day, he was dressed and ready for school again. No matter how afraid he was of what may happen, Matteusz didn’t have the heart to make Charlie stay home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know what A levels are like, so I based the curricular in their class on the equivalent in my country and what my own history lessons were like, and then just moulded it to suit the plot. So if this is inaccurate, many apologies.
> 
> There is some genuine debate over Henry V and in particular his actions at Agincourt. At the time his actions were not considered illegal or even immoral (many people argue that they were because the nobles refused to perform the executions and the archers who were typically poor people had to do it. Evidence heavily suggests the nobles were just angry that they didn't get to use the prisoners for ransom). My personal interpretation has always been that there was an element of 'do horrid things if you must to protect your people your own soul be damned' in Henry's motivations so after episode 8 I kind of had to draw parallels. Basically, and this will show up more later on, I see Rhodia as being a society essentially the same as our own except with a very medieval monarchy. Hence why I think Charlie would relate to a medieval King. The Rhodian monarch who was crowned at birth is based off of Henry VI who was crowned King at nine months old after Henry V died. It did result in civil war, in part due to his relatives wanting to seize power.
> 
> Comments are always welcome!


	2. Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is shorter than my stuff usually is, but I hope all the fluff makes up for it. Also, the title change is because I actually remembered what this was meant to be called and I like the new (which was the original) title more

If there was one irritating thing about sleeping in the living room (aside from the backache, which had been remedied by the purchase of an inflatable mattress, and the fact that he had become so accustomed to sleeping with Charlie in his arms or on his chest that it had become almost impossible to fall asleep without it), it was that Quill had this bizarre tendency to wake up at two in the morning, almost on the dot. She would not stay in her room and watch cat videos, nor would she go upstairs and watch over her daughter. Instead, she would come into the kitchen, make a cup of tea (Earl Grey, which she pretended to drink straight to watch Charlie’s face contort as he imagined the bitterness, but poured sugar into when she thought no one was looking), and sit there. Which had turned into: come into the kitchen, make a cup of tea, and stare at Matteusz. 

His sleep pattern had twisted to fit this habit of hers, so at two a.m., on the dot, he found himself wide awake. She made her tea; he made some cocoa. She sat down, he sat down in front of her, and they sat in silence. Normally they would sit in silence until three when she would return to bed. Tonight however she was looking at him (even more than usual). It was a gaze he had seen on his neighbour’s cat when it was playing with a mouse it had caught. It was also the look Quill gave when humans were doing something that to her seemed particularly strange and moronic. She loved to look at Matteusz like that.

“If we were on Rhodia, you would be dead.”

Matteusz raised his eyebrows. He took a long sip from his drink, letting the warmth fill his belly before allowing himself to be subjected to whatever rant Quill had saved. 

“The Queen would never have allowed your relationship with Charles,” she continued.

“Because I am a boy?” It was an instinctive reaction. 

“No. You humans have such a bizarre obsession with this gender division you claim to have, and with each other’s sexual practices. No. It’s because he loves you.”

Charlie had said that his relationship with his parents had not been filled with love. It had sounded distant. Matteusz had many problems with his parents, but at least they had made him feel loved. When they thought he was straight, anyway. He could not understand people who could make their own child feel like they were mere objects.

“Love is a different thing on Rhodia. Even the most uncaring relationship would be called love. A transaction has no relationship to feelings.”

“Then what would you call what we consider love?”

“Ador- Adora-” Quill slapped the back of her head and growled. “Adoration is not the right word, damn it! Well, apparently it is the closest you can get on this backwater planet. The combination of wish and motivation. It is the intent to share with someone a piece of yourself. A piece of your soul, because the Rhodians were so one track minded. And dearest Charles wants to not just share his soul with you but give it to you in its entirety.”

“And that is disapproved of?”

“The Rhodian monarchy does not allow one love to be put above others. So a mother must treat her son like property. To distance her from the son, and son from the mother. Marriage is for alliance, not romance. And no close friendship may be formed. The monarch must love all Rhodians equally. Therefore they must love no one at all. And they called us barbarians.”

“Is that why he focuses so much on his people?”

“Probably. And that is why _you_ would have been whisked away to the edges of the planet and buried in an unmarked grave. It is greedy, little human, to covet so much love from the future King.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because next time you think about using up all the coffee in the morning, I want you to know that I am not against continuing tradition.” And then, earlier than usual, she returned to her room. Leaving Matteusz sitting there with a half empty cup of hot chocolate and too many thoughts to sleep. He decided to ask Charlie about it in the morning.

\---

“Would your parents approve of me?” Matteusz asked as he dried the dishes. The sink was low, so it hurt his back to be the one washing them. Charlie was too short to reach some of the cupboards comfortably. Therefore, Charlie would wash, Matteusz would dry. It was the first of their chores that Charlie resumed doing, so it had become a comfort. Charlie frowned as rinsed the mug Matteusz had been using in the night.

“I suppose not. I was not meant to have relationships.”

“Quill said you weren’t allowed to be close to people. Did you really have no one?” Matteusz took the mug and dried it with the tea towel.

“I had the people of Rhodia.”

“You know what I mean. Friends? Lovers? No one?”

“I told you. My only friend was-”

“-The man who wrote your speeches. But not even as child? No friends?”

“I had my tutors? And there were some nurses. I was sickly as a child, so they took care of me. Once I grew out of it, they did not need to anymore. There were people I cared for, but... it was not mutual.”

“Then how do you know if what you feel is love?” It was probably a stupid question. Matteusz knew that he loved Charlie, and he had never felt anything even half as intense before. But he had been raised with love, he had seen love, he had read about it in books and watched it in films. So it was easy to name what he felt- even if it was quicker than he had ever planned. For Matteusz it was just something where you just knew it if you have it. But Charlie was not raised with love, and understood it as being a very different concept. Some insecurities Matteusz had lost the fortitude to ignore. 

“I…” Charlie frowned, the same way Matteuesz did when he was trying to think of how to translate what he wanted to say into English. “My heart feels like it is fluttering when I think of you. Every part of you makes me happy. Your smile, your heart, your rather strange taste in music. Each part of what makes you who you are brings me joy to know it exists. All I want is to see you happy in return. Is that not love?”

Matteusz felt like the air in the room had been stripped away. He had been frightened, always, that Charlie did not love Matteusz as much as Matteusz loved Charlie. It hurt to think about but he could not comprehend anything else. He could not comprehend that anyone could love something as strongly as he loved Charlie. So, unlike Ram appeared to, he did not care that his beloved did not return his affections as strongly. He had been almost certain of it, because Charlie showed so little. His face was like stone sometimes, and he never said how he felt. So when he told Matteusz he loved him it was the most magnificent feeling in the world. It was nothing now.

He raised his hand on instinct. Not sure whether he should, Matteusz cupped Charlie’s cheek in his palm. Charlie looked at him and he was about to pull his hand away. But then Charlie leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and letting out a soft breath. Matteusz could feel the tremors beneath his hand. Or maybe it was his hand that was doing the shaking. Their breaths were thunderous in the silent room. 

“Yes, Charlie. That is love.” 

Charlie opened his eyes and looked at him. Matteusz wanted to walk forward and kiss his lips, his head, every piece of bare skin and then take Charlie’s clothes off and kiss the rest as well. He wanted to wrap Charlie in his arms and never let go. If he could, he would make their bodies one, and their souls one as well. Instead he rose his other hand to cup Charlie’s other cheek. Charlie hooked his fingers in Matteusz’s shirt and leaned forward slightly. Matteusz leaned forward in return, resting his forehead on top of Charlie’s. They were sharing breath now.

“My mother would have forbidden me from marrying you,” Charlie whispered. “I would have asked you anyway.”

“I think I would have said yes.”

“How do we get past this, Matteusz?”

“I don’t know. But I want to try. Because I love you... And I don’t want to lose you.”

They did not kiss. Matteusz stood there, breathing in time with Charlie, and tried to still the thumping heart in his chest. It was a persistent ache, being so close to Charlie but being unable to do anything about it. Loving him so much but knowing that love may not be enough. He wanted more than anything for it to be enough. For Matteusz to be able to love away all of Charlie's demons, for Charlie to stay in spite of Matteusz's vat of insecurity. But Matteusz knew that nothing would destroy their relationship faster than believing that loving each other should be enough to fix everything. So they stood in the kitchen and breathed. For now it was the best they could do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always welcome :)


	3. Acceptance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quill and Charlie talk. And possibly try to kill each other. It is a complicated relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> World building and fight scenes, oh my.

It had become a morning tradition. Perhaps more established even than the traditions of the Rhodian court. Certainly with more significance. It was an unspoken one- he and Quill had never discussed it because there was nothing to discuss. They just met every morning, in silence. Had breakfast, walked outside, and to the warehouse. It reminded him of tactical training in some ways. Being with his mother at the dinner table mostly. 

Charlie knew there was a movie on Earth that was frequently referenced by his peers, and was rather apt for his and Quill’s current activities. Perhaps that was why they had essentially taken a vow of silence. It was rule one, after all- never talk about fight club. Rule two- never, _ever_ , tell Matteusz about fight club. Charlie had seen the human’s concern when he had returned covered in bruises. He loved Matteusz dearly, but that was one part of Charlie he doubted Matteusz would understand. Matteusz was gentle in every sense of the word, and Charlie had once been glad that Matteusz seemed to think of Charlie as gentle too. Someone who touched guns as if they were going to explode (which that one clearly was not; the core showed no signs of overheating and there were no signs of malfunction or an explosive device) would not understand the release of a trained soldier finally being allowed to _fight_.

Humans were, physically, a weak species. Their skin was soft and easily punctured, vital functions such as major arteries in the neck were exposed (it was a horrific vulnerability, and he wondered if Matteusz knew how much Charlie trusted him to permit someone else to touch it), and they were so easy to break. It was a difficult time, constantly fearing that he would forget to hold back his strength and accidentally cause some harm. He had seen humans hug each other so tightly he could hear the creaking bones and knew that if he ever tried that it could lead to some serious damage. So he made himself weak, just like how in physics and maths he made himself stupid, and bore the frustration.

A frustration that Quill seemed to share. Her training of Tanya seemed to be going well- he had seen Tanya practising some gradually more complicated blocked moves while walking around at school. However, he had been told many times by his instructors how hard it was to relax your instincts when you were fighting a novice. A novice who was part of a much more fragile species than you were would have driven any Quill mad. With Charlie she did not have to hold back her strength. The Quill and the Rhodians had been almost matched in strength, and without her quills and his spiked skin they could fight entirely on experience and strategy. It was a release. He knew she wanted to hurt him, and he wanted to be hurt. He _needed_ to be hurt. On the days where the freedom almost drove him mad, the lack of punishment clawed at his brain, and he could feel the Shadow on his heart raging. And he wanted her to be the one to hurt him. And he wanted to hurt her.

But not today. Their sessions were usually the highlight of his day but how could he fight when his body felt like lead. He didn’t want to defend himself- it had been days since he had been able to hear anything but the roaring in his ears as the souls flew past him as their lives and their screams deafened him. He could no longer tell if the ache in his chest was Shadow or grief. And yesterday at school, April had collapsed. He had seen her, Ram, and Tanya walking through the halls and chatting animatedly when she had just fallen. She had been unconscious for an hour. Because of course she wasn’t fine, she had _died_ , he had been the one to kill her and now she might be dying again, and-

Quill’s foot connected with his stomach, forcing him to skate across the ground and fall on his back. He coughed and clutched his bruised stomach. Quill was getting fed up with him, he could tell. She wanted a fight. To know that she had taken on the Rhodian Prince and won. He did not understand why. He would suffer either way. Perhaps she enjoyed the extra humiliation knowing that she could beat him no matter what he did. All animals get bored with a lifeless toy. No, it was unfair to call her an animal, but wasn’t she in a way? Wasn’t he? Were they all just beasts ripping out throats so they could survive?

“Fight back!” Quill yelled, hitting his chin with her knee and then grabbing his arm, twisting it. “Fight back against the Quill menace, or are you not the King of Rhodia?”

“Stop calling me that,” Charlie growled through gritted teeth. His arm was beginning to shake, she must have put it in a stress position. “Why are you calling me that?!”

“Because you are. And you hate that you are. I’m making you deal with it.”

If he didn’t move now, she was going to break his arm. He twisted under her grip so that she would have less leverage. Then he pushed her away with his free hand. They faced each other, breathing heavily. 

“My mother is the Queen of Rhodia-”

“Your mother’s _dead_ , Charles!” She aimed a kick at his head. It collided with his temple and knocked him to the ground again. His head was beginning to spin. There was a thundering in his ears. If this kept going, he could end up severely injured. Quill grabbed his leg this time and dug her foot into his knee. “Accept it!”

“Why now?! You have always called me Prince because you know that is all I will ever be!” Quill had never missed the chance to insult him, after all. He supposed it was meant to be a dig at his pride. A failure of a Prince, who would never become King because he was so _worthless_ he couldn’t save his own people and now he has actively destroyed their only chance at being revived.

“You have to prove yourself worthy of the crown. You had proved nothing to me!” She flipped him over. Quill pinned him with a knee digging into his side. Right where his heart should be. 

“And now I have? By committing murder?!” Charlie raised his legs and pushed Quill back with his feet. He rolled onto his side and tried to push himself to his feet. His left arm could not support his weight. Of course a Quill would only respect him after genocide. After succumbing to his most violent impulses. Heartless. 

“By doing what had to be done.” She got back to her feet. Now she was striding towards him. He could not move. “Even though it killed you.”

“No it didn’t. It should have, but _you stopped it_!” Quill straddled his torso and wrapped her fingers around his neck. Her somehow perfectly manicured nails were digging into the soft skin, but she wasn’t squeezing. Not yet. Charlie froze. He wanted to scream at her to let him go, not that she would anyway because the ahn was gone. She was going to kill him. Why else would she touch his neck, touch that so very vulnerable place.

“It still could have killed you. No one else was spared just because someone tried to save them. Once again you’re the _only_ survivor. Wonder why.” She squeezed. Charlie’s hands flew up to her wrists, but they just rested there. He did not try to pry her hands off. It was not enough to fully constrict his airflow, just cause discomfort. Just prove what she was willing to do. And it compromised his ability to speak, which he was sure Quill was just loving. She continued to ramble on.

“Would you prefer to be dead? I did, when I was captured. I know what I did. We do not disagree on my actions, just whether they were justified. But I could still acknowledge execution was a price I deserved to pay. So would you prefer I killed you? I can, now.” She squeezed properly. He writhed and tried to gasp for air, but still did not try to remove her hands. She allowed him to breathe again. He coughed. Red was such a strange colour to see on a Rhodian. “Or would you prefer I open your skull and stick an ahn in your brain? Do you believe what you preach, Charles? Would you sacrifice your own freedom for order?”

He looked into her eyes with a steel resolve. It wasn’t even something to think about. He nodded. He would implant the ahn himself if he could. The universe had seen what he could do if he had complete control. It was only right that he be stripped of it completely. There were no Shadow Kin left to enforce his punishment, none except _him_ , so it would by all rights be April. She would be good. She would not abuse such power. Not like Charlie had. 

“Well tough,” Quill said. She raised one of her hands and slapped him sharply across the cheek. “You have to cope with your freedom. You have to accept your power. Because that is what Kings do. They do what they must, and then they use that horror to fight back. You still have a people Charles.” 

She bent over him and cupped his face. Like Matteusz did when he was about to kiss Charlie. Like his mother had just before she had locked him inside, to watch her and everyone else be slaughtered while he was forced to do nothing. It was gentle. Almost too gentle. But there were her fingernails, sinking deep enough into his cheeks he thought she was about to draw blood. If he focused he could see beyond the human body her form had been changed into. Could see the red spikes.

“I acknowledge you.” She said it like a prayer. “Accept it. Fight back against the universe that made you a monster, _sire_. For your own sake. For the sake of your friends. We are all your people now. _Fight back_.”

He kicked her in the chest. Hooked his knee around her head and used his weight to force her to ground. Pinned her arms behind her and dug his knee into her back. She was smiling, all teeth and no sympathy. She looked like his mother. They were after all similar in many ways. He wondered what would happen if he told her. She would probably rip his throat out. Quill pulled her knees out from under him and then forced them both backwards. Headbutted him in the face and used the shock to stomp her foot into his stomach and wrestle her hands free. They glared each other, sweating in a way only adrenaline could make you. Then they struck each other again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter (and this fic, for the most part) was largely me trying to come to terms with Charlie always being considered a Prince when by all rights he should be King. I figure the bulk of it is denial on his part. If he accepts that he is King he accepts everything that happened and he isn't ready to do that. I also decided to add in the whole 'a Rhodian monarch needs to be accepted by their people to be an actual regent' because why not. That and there is probably something that needs to happen so that Charlie is confirmed King and that is in part why he refuses the moniker. I put far too much thought into minor things that bother me.
> 
> Sorry that this chapter took longer than usual, I was busy writing later instalments and lost track of time. I hope the next instalment makes up for it because that thing is a monster.
> 
> Comments are welcome :)

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what A levels are like, so I based the curricular in their class on the equivalent in my country and what my own history lessons were like, and then just moulded it to suit the plot. So if this is inaccurate, many apologies.
> 
> There is some genuine debate over Henry V and in particular his actions at Agincourt. At the time his actions were not considered illegal or even immoral (many people argue that they were because the nobles refused to perform the executions and the archers who were typically poor people had to do it. Evidence heavily suggests the nobles were just angry that they didn't get to use the prisoners for ransom). My personal interpretation has always been that there was an element of 'do horrid things if you must to protect your people your own soul be damned' in Henry's motivations so after episode 8 I kind of had to draw parallels. Basically, and this will show up more later on, I see Rhodia as being a society essentially the same as our own except with a very medieval monarchy. Hence why I think Charlie would relate to a medieval King. The Rhodian monarch who was crowned at birth is based off of Henry VI who was crowned King at nine months old after Henry V died. It did result in civil war, in part due to his relatives wanting to seize power.
> 
> Comments are always welcome!


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